


Glory Days

by Tizian23



Category: The Libertines
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mile High Club, Recording, Reunion, Sleeping Together, Sleepy Sex, Thailand, studio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-03-19 21:07:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3624315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tizian23/pseuds/Tizian23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>on general demand and fired by inspiration  I proudly present:<br/>The Thailand Fic<br/>Cross posted from Livejournal/Albionfic.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Over The Hills and Far Away

**Author's Note:**

> on general demand and fired by inspiration  I proudly present:  
> The Thailand Fic  
> Cross posted from Livejournal/Albionfic.

Title: Glory Days  
Pairing: P/C  
Rating: pretty tame YET but mischievous mentioning of blood sex and romance  
Beta: the ever lovely Lady Mimi  


Leaving my now totally deserted house behind me,I practically fall off my doorstep and into an oily looking puddle.I watch the sun slip behind dark clouds and the first rain drops slam into the tiles of the side walk next to me and shake my soaked chelsea boot, cursing under my breath. I stare at the rain drops confusedly as my trusty Wayfarers -that I obviously too optimistically left the house with - slide off my nose and hit the ground with a mean glassy crack that tells me they are only good for the garbage now..Picking up the shattered pieces I cut my finger on the glass splinters. "Where is the bloody cab?" I grumble to myself around the bleeding finger in my mouth. In the same moment that I see the sodding thing turn around the corner of my street, I notice my carry-on slowly falling off the pavement into the puddle and my guitarcase hitting the ground with a brutal and physically painful dismelodic clang. Rain, blood, muddy water, shattered sunglasses and damaged guitars - this is not a good start. Albion does not love me back today. Maybe because I'm leaving her? Hmpf, I've heard that sentence before rather recently...  
  
Nestled into the backseat on my way to Heathrow, I constantly finger and scan my phone nervously for more evil tidings; like riots, large explosions, tornados, or you missing whatever gets you to the airport. Too many times it's happened that way and I'm still always on the lookout for history repeating itself.  
  
At the airport I consider starting to drink right away, just as I always do, because I'm eternally nervous about missing my flight or my connection, or my travel company, or maybe just flying in general? The idea of being in the hands of someone else who is allowed to raise a large metal can into the stratosphere by pure will and kerosine scares me shitless. Not to mention not being able to do anything to avoid my demise, except to wait for the airplane to blow up in a ball of fire and dust before it hits the ground in burning pieces. That sounds familiar too. Hm, no wonder this scares me - control freak that I am . "Dont put your life into the hands of a Rock n Roll band" he wails on the airport speakers. Or a pilot, I add quietly in my head.  
Where is the rest of my gang? John and Gary should at least be here already, not that I expect you to show up till 15 minutes before take off. I always figured you do that a tad intentionally so they don't have too much time to search you thoroughly. God knows what you drag around in the depth of your suitcases and coat seams.. Guess the knife thing you might have got you last time though. But you were never a Mack the Knife person anyway. That would have been me then... And that's how we both have a couple of scars from my own blade. For some of them I might even have begged you....ah well t'is a too sexy kinky thing to dwell upon now...  
Where are they? where are you? What's this new assistant good for if not getting you here in time at least...? Fuck!...the queue at the boarding counter is getting considerably short now. More Oasis. I'm going crazy, is this some English thing? Why don't they play my music here then? We were rather successful band too and publicly, patriotically English as fuck.. We are a rather very successful band I correct myself and grin like a loon about it as the reality hits me again. Still happens, I cant really wrap my head around it, then forget and talk about in the past tense. . Yeah, it's true, we are together again and it fucking works, no big drama, disaster, or you...me, ruining everything with our heated hearts, not that Gray or John were ever the cause of any trouble in our Libby world, au contraire, mon ami. I'm slowly, actually daring to think its true. Ha!  
Where are they? Boarding finishes in 7 minutes...I will not fly to sodding Thailand all by myself...that's not what I bargained for... THANK FUCK, I see a tall, darkly dressed figure heading over here. By instinct I recognize the way you move through a crowd like a dark dream through a wedding party. You have the indecency to not look stressed out at all. Moving gracefully and unhurriedly, unfazed by the racket around you. Dressed in a long coat so black it seems to swallow the light,caught rain drops sparkling on it like diamonds in the soil. Your shortish hair beneath a hat askew, still wet from the shower, clad in a striped cashmere jumper with two scarves trailing behind you, your heels hitting the floor in a funny little double step, sounding merry somehow, but that's maybe just because you are heading towards me. Your eyes lock with mine and you smile, carrying the same battered guitar case I've just collected -we bought them together when we first had a bit of money, but stopped using them a long time ago, for various reasons I assume. Oh God, I'm nervous, excited, happy.  
You give me a loving, short, wordless but nonetheless tight hug, smelling like rain and making my heart sing. We head over to the counter, your bag bumping my side. We are framed by our guitars and our attitude. Now its just Us.... And its the top of the world right now. No canals in view. As we are queuing for the Check-In I see you attract the looks of just about everyone following you and think, yes all mine, for keeps now, the whole mercurial rockstar sweet boy thing. The flight assistant looks nervous as she eyes us and our luggage and tries to explain that we can't take the guitars. You give her the widest smile you've got and say : " We are Musicians, you see love, if those things get lost you ll break our hearts. " Wow, the puppy eyes work just as my "Fuck me or Fuck Off" look did earlier at the customs. I maybe don't look as if I want to kidnap the airplane with my guitar. You always were the snake charmer out the two of us, whilst I just insisted and sulked as successfully, but with more guilty feeling. They let us go with our carry ons and instruments, after probably realising we d be more trouble than the cases will be worth.  
It's only when we climb up the gateway in the suddenly sunny London morning that I receive a text " Gary says John and he have missed the airport express" I tell you as we settle into our seats next to each other, the guitars locked away by the flight girls. " Come on, John doesn't even know which airport the Airport Express would get him to, let alone where it leaves. Tis suspicious" you splutter, stretching your giraffe legs under the seat before us, lookin a bit sleepy suddenly. The next message comes just when we are supposed to switch all devices off. "My useless assistant says they can only get new flights in 2 days." you say, confusedly scratching your head, hat pushed back into your neck "Hehe, only you would hire the cute not the capable one." I reply, knowing full well that our tour manager said something about needing a couple days of mind-numbing debauchery in Berlin after finishing The Libby tour. Then checked out of this band trip to Thailand to write some new things far away from all distractions. Your supposedly 'useless" assistant is a hard working, nice boy and if he missed the airplane with Gary AND John it was very intentional. I see the light in your eyes get brighter as you dig that and let out a long "Oooohhhh!" together with a huge grin. You're probably thinking that we'll have at least 3 days all to ourselves to spend in bed and making out on the dark beach, becoming Biggles and Bilo again to each other.  
Holding onto your forearm, I trace our mark on your skin with rough finger tips and feel both the airplane lift off the English ground and my heart abandon some more doubt. Your thumb glides over the letters upon my skin now, hidden under the sleeve of my tshirt. There is not much talk now. We are equally sleepy and content and will have all the time in the world to talk soon, after we kip for a bit. I am not concerned about anything - exploding aeroplanes, Oasis or putting my life in the hand of of a pilot - except your shoulder that I wanna nod off on now. We are seated in the last row of the airplane, all the seats around us are empty and the flight girls are busy, so we are pretty private as we carefully try to find a way to nap without publicly curling into each other - I can see you are dying to do same as me. You wrap your light swallowing, giant cashmere over us to hide us away whilst I lean into you with a dozen pillows and blankets around us to bolster the seats up and practically hide me completely. I know that you will not go anywhere soon; so fucking content and giddy... Before I fall asleep I feel your arm sneak around me, lacing your fingers with mine.

and here we have Peter in his black coat...


	2. Over The Hills and Far Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andy Warhol never said anything about prayers...actually it was Truman Capote  who picked the quote by Teresia de Avila for his unfinished novel of the same title.

I can feel your body next to mine.I wake up with my head in your lap. I think. I am always cold and restless in airplanes...Usually. Now I feel that I'm held in the safe, secret embrace of darkness, warmth and something that tastes like the memory of happiness.. Still caught up in the lost land between sleep and wakefulness I feel myself slip back into memories. Our sheets in the Albion rooms smelt like this...Well for me they smelt like you and all the heady things that made those days the good ones in my life. A rush of anticipation and a Sunday morning feeling makes me shiver as I open my eyes. Having slid down off your shoulder in my sleep I've turned towards you and curled up on your large lap, covered by your coat and different blankets. You are sleeping in your seat, snuggled in lots of pillows, all deep breathing and fluttering lashes and little clipped words. Yeah, I remember again. You did that, talking in your sleep, usually when you felt safe. I'd even ask you questions and you' d answer me, still soundly asleep. I can't believe you are still holding my hand ..From my position under your coat I can see you but no one sees me. We must be a wonderful picture of tangled hidden limbs and dark hair, my right foot in a red sock dangling off the seats into the gangway. There is a pillow under my head, probably to protect your bony knees from prodding into my shoulder. I am here in my little nest in your lap, trying to imagine what I want to fill our time with. Aside from the of the naughty stuff that (now that I've got your body warm next to me) is kinda given. Trying to remember every time I'd thought: 'I wish Peter was here now', or 'I wonder if he ever did that' - even only subconciously. Since you are rather complicated to feed, everything that relates to eating is somewhat out of range. That leaves Drunken Whispering, Making you laugh, Drinking out of a Coconut, Discussing my Opera and listening to you make fun of me...because only you can. Ah that's really all I can think of now..?There is a stupid list in my notebook that I started when you walked out of my life. It's long and it's a very secret matter and I'm slightly ashamed of still having it - and that the mere sight of you now makes it impossible to remember one single point of it. But I don't want to do things I forgot to do with you in years gone by. I want to fucking reinvent us.  
The last girl I kissed was a cute blonde with a quirky tattoo. It was Andy Warhol' s hand writing ("Because he knew a lot about longing") on her outer left wrist. It said "Answered Prayers" and she went on to quote that there are more tears shed about answered than unanswered prayers. Whilst being on her arm though I was the Answered Prayer marked by her hand on my arse. Thats how I feel about you right now. Reality bending to fit all joyful prophecies. My head in your lap now is the response to all the questions I had. My hand that you still hold so tightly that your ring leaves a blueish imprint upon my finger is every prayer I secretly said under the shower answered right here..

I shift around slowly, wriggling my fingers in your grip because they are numb and cold. Despite my careful movements you are breathing differently, then your eyes suddenly open. We look at each other, the silent spark does not need any words yet. You smile - this special mix of pride, want and victory - the smile of the torero kneeling down in the blood soaked sand. " Hi.." you say so quietly that I feel it rather than hear it... Your thumb is rubbing a slow sleepy circle on my dead hand.. "Hi " I reply, just as quietly as you let go of my hand to brush my hair out of my face. Oh, you should not look like that at someone in a public place. Didnt you just wake up? Where does this come from? Ah yeah, waking up to see me sleeping in your lap is maybe bound to have this outcome, I reckon..Suddenly I can feel your body exhale heat as your body temperature rises a couple (of dozen) degrees. Eyes get larger and much darker..your finger traces my lips, I part them a little to allow you in...you slide over my lower lip, rubbing the tip of my tongue, then dip deeper inside. Your eyes diving into mine, making this feel like a much more intimate and dirty touch than it actually is. A replacement invasion of the highest order, eye fucking me hard whilst that finger touches me so softly...under several layers of cashmere and blankets your left - the naughty - hand sneaks down my chest pulling my t-shirt up to touch my naked skin, circling my belly button, then around a nipple, pinching it a bit, just rubbing it. My breath comes faster now, your hands doing two so different things to me, the hidden plain-view pleasure and your dirty eyes progressively stealing my control..I think the whole airplane hears the pop of my jeans button. The lucky torero leaving the arena, dragging his red mantilla behind him,shed blood and tears drying now, taking home the death of innocence to kiss the feet of a loved one in the delirious celebration of having survived...A man presumed dead walking away to revelry.

Four indecent finger tips travel down my sweetest skin, as you lick your lips."I want...can I?" your voice drips..but it's affection not lust. You want to touch me, not just make me come, make this moment of intense proximity count for more than just a local thing. Entwining again. All answered prayers...I close my eyes, tightening my mouth round your finger - enough for an answer. The feather of a touch on my throbbing cock makes me flinch as you slide your palm down to make room in my pants for your hand and my hard on. I spread my legs a little to allow you better access, everything happens slowly...slowly in tinted, loving motion...underwater in a world of our own. The pure excitement makes your hand moist enough to slipslide deliciously"Oh" we sigh voiceless in unison at this sensation. You hold me, slinging your thumb around the wet tip..your finger in my mouth mirroring the circle upon my tongue."This is the most breathtaking view I've had for a long time, I've got to say... First I was just so fucking happy that you fell asleep on me like a cat....but then...You know that you make these little noises when you sleep? Ridiculously hot that is. I wanted to ...but you looked so..Ah Fuck...Hey Biggles!"You sound torn between fierce love and hunger" Hey Bilo, " I say back. Well of course. I look up at you, blue and brown. Here we are again: You making me shiver and moan, feeling wrong and right in the same moment. A challenge and a seduction, blood and honey, tender and filthy... I cannot and will not say I didn't miss this.

" I want to kiss you so badly now...fuck, this is turning me on way too much."I hold your finger in my mouth between my teeth and breathe this confession around it, looking into your eyes as I let my self fall into this completely. You suddenly grab my cock a bit harder and move faster around it. 'That's the point Carlos, its supposed to feel good," you say smugly. I feel my skin tingle and my feet go funny as I try to find a rhythm into your hand, holding my breath and my moans, fidgeting a bit. You look intensely at me , I know you are enjoying it as much as I do. The secretive pleasure and watching me come undone, the cocoa coloured curly cues caught on my moistening skin, my pulse quickening visibly under my skin ablaze. Fucking filthy lovely friction.. your finger nails(you've got long nails-why is this? yeah right, you play guitar..) now scratching lightly at my balls, soothing each scratch with a soft finger pad. I let your finger drop from my mouth, let my head drop down so that my hair falls around my face... biting your leg through your jeans in a almost vain attempt to stiffle my sighs. When I look at you now I want to tell the whole airplane what you do to me. You make me feel so good, aside from the arousal that's threating to swallow me - this feeling of being with you. Allowing you to touch me, my head, my heart and darn, of course, my body.

Your large right hand -the innocent one - buries itself in my hair, cradles the back of my head as the other hand - naughty one - in my pants moves achingly faster. "Yeah, I know..." I hear you say, with a tiny pleased giggle in your voice, "So I've not forgotten yet how to take you there...eh?" I dare to let out a long muffled "Oooohhhh..." your legs and the blankets swallowing it a little bit. " Fuck yes, there and back..and over hills and far way. Aaah.. you're killing me." " Tehe, but in the most enjoyable way," you answer, twisting your wrist,speeding up and raising the stakes of staying quiet. I can feel each of your 5 fingers on my cock now, each one touching another spot that makes my body sing. "You're gonna make me come" I say, turning my head out of your lap and my hair, looking up at you, wanting to give us both this moment of only existing in each other's eyes, letting you see what you do to me and how much i love it.

Your breath hitches, the naughty hand going all soft and gentle on me, more sliding than friction, as you know I love it best, the thumb circling round my tip again, sweat and pre-cum mingling in your palm.... The innocent hand slips a finger back in my mouth, place holder for a kiss to swallow my moans..."Yeah, come on!" that little exchange- one of our most intimate rituals... making sure we are still d'accord before spinning out of control. So I let go, trying to not break our gaze, as I come helplessly, happily, fucking blissfully in your hand, under your hand, by your hand, heavily shaking, breath held and eyes wide, holding onto your legs and the coat. Oh yeah and I curl the toes of my dangling foot. What a treacherous hint." Oh My God " is the only thing I can think of to say. You smile down at me, pulling the coat over my head to allow me to catch my breath and come to, my still tingling, singing, dancing, overloaded senses. I can hear you licking your fingers.  
The torero waking up to the best day of his life -having cheated death and with his love sleeping in his arms.


	3. Great Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There might be an epilogue.

" I hope the hotel has nice wall paper" you say mysteriously as we leave the airport. Wet heat embracing us like a damp towel slapped in our faces. My guitar feels very heavy suddenly. I want to put my hand in your pants , drink something cold, maybe strong ,lay down, get rid of my shoes. not particularly in that order but certainly soonish.  
  
"Eh, 'scuse me?"" ...It's gonna be the first thing you'll see once I've closed a door behind us." you reply rascally, with a stealthy smack to my bottom  I can't help but smile about this lovely threat I know that you'll make true.  
  
With our guitars and our attitudes to brace us against humid boiling weather, strange eyes and conspicuous glances disguised as hugs and photo requests and expressions of admiration. Normally I don't mind and neither do you, but right now we've escaped deliberately to the other end of the world for a couple of reasons; mainly a certain insularity and the possibilty of being with each other without feeling the eyes of others resting upon us... Observation and the sodding NME following each step for a smile and quote.... and then there is the other reason that neither one of us has addressed.  
"That was a lot easier that I thought it would be," you say cheerily, " I'd have expected them to give me a full cavity search and try really hard to find a reason to make our lives hard."  
" I think they assumed that you learned your lesson last time ..and you look a lot more..hm I don't want to say 'collected' ..." I trail off, looking for the right word to describe you and your recently a lot less messy ways. Though I can still tell by how dirty your fingers are and how far your shirt is buttoned... Always could, because I saw it develop...  
" You didn't just call me collected?" you reply laughing,  
as if this is some kind of abstruse insult or massive misinterpretation of the essence of Peter Doherty.  
We aim for the next cab, stuff our bags and guitars in the back.  
" You travel lightly" you say about my rather small carry-on.   
" Its still more than what I came to Barcelona with - plus I figured that I don't need that many clothes"  I say smirking, realising too late how that sounds.  
" Fuck I mean.."  
" Ah...cant fucking believe you just said that, Carl "You make a surprised face, considering my unintended bluntness. We both think of the day I stood in your camper van and had brought nothing but lube and fags.  
" Its hot here, and and and...I thought we'd spend time at the beach anyway, so I packed a couple of pairs of bathing trunks and wifebeaters, just light stuff...black jeans seemed somewhat overdressed here."  
I distract both of us with the rider your assistant mailed me and try to tell the oblivious cab driver where we wanna go. He just stares at me with the vacant friendly smile of someone who hasn't got a clue what you're trying to tell him but still wants to be friendly. Getting impatient with our fruitless attempt at conversation, you snatch the paper from my sweaty hand to wield it at the driver, pointing at the  printed hotel address . He seems to get it finally, his grin changes and he puts the car in gear to leave the airport with all it's curious people with intrusive eyes.  
You wriggle around on the backseat - eternally too small for you - patting down your coat that you dragged out of the airport by its collar somewhat...I wonder if you're now gonna whip out some devious substance hidden in your linings..After I  made you cry once by forcing you to flush your stash before we flew to Coachella about 1000 years ago, you've gone out of your way to not let me know what you' ve got with you ever since. On the other hand, I might have been the only person who ever imported coke to Columbia when we toured there - even if it was unintentional - by just being too lazy and hungover to clean out my pockets before boarding the plane in Bogota. Then making Anthony positively faint in the hotel when I absentmindedly  pulled it out of my jeans and offered him some. So I decide to just watch your quest to unearth the unknown and see you put on a pair of slightly scratched sunglasses that you've finally found with a satisfied sigh, whilst I start to feel like an asshat.  
You turn to me. In your black lenses I can see myself; looking tired, shiny and groggy...why do I still do that?You are trying so fucking hard...  I can see it and yet I still have these thoughts out of pure habit.  
"Alright!?" you say, it's more a statement rather than a question - you can probably feel all your bones ache after folding into yourself the tiny hard seats and balancing me like a unconscious overgrown cat on your lap for about 11 and a half hours.  
I look at you with an embarrassed smile, sure that you've just read my thoughts. I look down, hiding my eyes, wishing I had my sunglasses too. Our hands on the seat next to each other... a tiny space between them......yours so much bigger than mine; so different, so skilled...your left one being the dirty one, able to inflict so manycontradicting feelings. You punch with that one if you have to... and the way you wrap it around the neck of a guitar still makes me proud to have been the one who taught you that....and a lot of other things.  
I swallow hard, and without looking at me, you move the naughtyone towards mine and wrap your pinky finger around my own, the moist pad rubbing gently. The touch - minimal as it is - is sparkingly electric, surreptitious and yet says so much.The typical tropical chaos that  we pass on the street in our car exhausts me from just looking at it. ..way too many people, too many small motorcycles darting through evey gap that opens up, overloaded with often 3 or 4 people, and the sun is beaming, it's loud and I feel tired and like a ignorant git.  
Finally arriving at the hotel I almost bounce inside,notfeeling so tired anymore....its cool and quiet inside, medium fancy, tuned down luxury that'll allow me to order a drink via room service but it might be a shitty gin tonic and not 3 bottles of Cristal. We arrange reservations and rooms and I become aware of your body's heat next to mine in the chill air of the hotel lobby....It's confusing how I go through these variations of feelings towards you - swinging between mindless desire, the nested love of longtime lovers...once soulmates and a nagging doubtful insecurity to ruin things with the wrong word, move, Hell, even a thought could be enough. We are alone in the elevator and my senses are buzzing. I feel indecisive, restless , tired, thirsty, giddy...ah Fuck I hate long flights, I wish my thoughts wouldn't just scream so loudly right now - I can't hear you, I can't read your face coz you're still wearing the sunglasses.  
We've got adjoining rooms, we both stand there, ready to open our doors, my keycard is unwilling to co-operate the first 150 times I try it with shaking hands mumbling curses. You look over to me and say "I ll see you later okay? I need a shower and a kip." "Yea, Yea, sure, let's go for a drink later somwhere.." I hope I don't sound pissed off or - even worse-disappointed. Your door closes, leaving me alone in the long air conditioned hotel hallway, looking exactly like the 1324 I've seen before. I am officially annoyed. I' ll just drop into bed and sleep this mood off, then try to behave like a grown up when you knock on my door later.  
Your door aprubtly bangs open, you grab me by the collar of my T-shirt and my belt and drag me backwards into your room, my keycard dropping to the floor from my startled hands,kicking the door shut slamming me in to the next wall."I love the sulk you put on when you don't get what you want but don't wanna ask for it..." you whisper in my ear as you wrap your arms around me, leaning down to kiss my neck. I can hear you inhale as if you want to take a bath in my scent, wrap it around you like one of your scarves, the shroud you wanna go down in...your lips on my skin make me hard, so fast, that I almost faint like one of the front row fan boys at the Berlin show. No idea wjst to do with my hands, so I stuff them in your pockets.Oh!  
  
You rub your body against mine and I think of nothing but how much I want you and how ridiculously good your thigh feels as it slips between mine... And finally, thank all that's fucking unholy, you start kissing me. Since I met your at the airport in London I've wanted to do that. I had 3 minutes of time to watch you walking up to me, graceful; all sinister threats of vicious pleasure wrapped in cashmere and glass sharp smiles. 3 minutes longer than the week I didn't sleep, 3 minutes I went slightly mad considering the possibilies, the top, the canal, the knives, the syringe, blood on walls, the defeated look you gave me when I left you and its counterpart when you opened your camper van's door to really see me standing there, in tow my heart and every promise I wanted to fulfill.   
Your tongue licking my lips, asking for entry, as if I'm a schoolgirl  whose cherry you very urgently want to pop, moving with all fake patience and pure unabashed desire underneath.  
I give you a defeated sigh and let you in and take off your shades, throw them on the floor - tempted to step on them in revenge for the tornado they caused inside me. Your eyes...so close up they tell me all I need to know. In 20 minutes the whole hotel will know your name because you'll make me scream it loud enough to hear it in the lobby. Together with probly a couple of dozen different ways of saying "fuck me ","dont stop" and "finally"!  
You shove your hands in my pants and your tongue in my mouth, castaway the tentativeness. My cock aches under your touch and you drop to your knees, trying to unzip me far enough to put your lips around me for a dizzyingly heated, too long too short moment in the eye of the storm before hell breaks loose. I feel you slip your fingers in your mouth along with my cock and that already makes me shaky because it's finally gonna happen. Now! You slide them around my balls and as I dive into my first of many "Fuck yes please"s, you slip them into me,two of them and it's been so damn long, it stings, it steals my breath and I want more more more.  
I bang my head lightly against the wall, your mouth sucking away the last clear thought I have. Fingers knuckle deep inside me, another hand pushing up my shirt, over sweaty skin and latching onto my nipple circling it and pinching it, announce that the foreplay is over. I miss your mouth and your fingers faster than I can feel them leaving me, you glide up my body unbuckling yourself one-handedly,  flinging me around  with the other one, pressing my cheek into the wall while holding me in place by my neck.  
Clothes are only pushed out of the way...your bare chest on my naked back, hand pushing down my pants. I feel your hips touching my bare arse pinning me further into the wall, then your hand, the wet tip of your cock trailing down between my cheeks. Then you slowly enter me with a long moan, hungry and sweet, your hand leaves my neck to sling around me and covers my hastily fluttering heart. I brace myself against the wall with both hands over my head as you cover my neck in kisses and dirty words..Keeping still, you are so deep in me I feel your heartbeat, your cock throbbing in me, silently begging you. Brushing my hair out of my face you whisper: "Coming home" into my mouth as we finally start moving.  
My mouth starts moaning, almost of it's own volition.  
" Yes, Biggles come on.." you tenderly goad me, I know you love me loud. You move steadily now; slick skin and tight hands, the sweetest invasion I've ever felt.   
" I can feel you..." you say "...your body talks to me. God, how tight you are... your skin gets moist when I start moving, I think it hurts a bit still, eh...? Like a heatwave rushing over you, your heart beats faster with me, you hold your breath when you think you cant take it...arch your back when you want more....I don't think I could be closer to you... in you so fucking deeply that I know every sigh you give me before you come... every shudder, I want them all more than you can imagine...you make me so happy..."  
"Then make me yours, now! Don't make me beg you"  
Its all I can come up with. Your slow path leaving me yearning to be touched a little more...So you do what I didn't beg you for.You start fucking me hard and fast, holding my hips in place, your mouth sucking onto my neck and I start losing it so quickly that my knees get shaky under your thrusts. My toes barely touching the ground anymore, both of us losing words and breath easily, there is an "I love You" and "I missed you" and "I know..." and then only moans and screams.  
  



	4. The Order of Undressing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the naughty minx [](http://katie-delaney.livejournal.com/profile)[katie_delaney](http://katie-delaney.livejournal.com/) for inspiration and my beloved Frist Reader! _Since this could be subtitled "Loving P." please take this one as a present to make your day lovely <3_

 

We are holding hands like teenagers in love  as we lay upon the carpet of our hotel room, breathing heavily still, in a state between dressed and naked in our minds, lust and sweat drying on our skins. 'Our' hotel room because we both know I won't be spending one minute in my room . I don't wanna miss one second with you; may you be awake or sleep, paying attention to me or lost in yourself, off your head or all with me... So many things we should would could will do and talk about...The infinitude of possibilities make me shiver and I let out a stupid little laugh. I look at your profile in the darkening of the late tropic sundown...The fringe in your face, your lashes fluttering as you turn your head to look at me in the dim violet. The sunset lights are reflected in your bedroom eyes, you look so at peace, I know all your thoughts are quiet. The sinful promise of your mouth inviting me in through it's smile, like a open gate to frigging paradise... It's not the slightest bit surprising how well I still know you, even in the dark...  
" Hm?" you ask, "What is it, my lovely one?" You always found the most silly nicknames for me after sex... you can only say "I love you" so many times before it loses it's magic...then you found different ways to let me know.  
" I was thinking about getting undressed, going to bed, eating something...and about how you wrap your legs around mine when we go to sleep. Kinda in that order. That's what I wanna do today"  
"So when will we have these silly coconut drinks you promised me then?"  
"Later!" Infinitudes of times and a beatitude of possibilities...like I said.  
The floor we are resting on in between the hallway and the bed is the largest free space in the room. You smile and reach up with one hand to drag the giant blue throw off the bed to the floor next to us...  
"I know what I've done on hotel carpets...I refuse to get naked on one unless I am spectacularly drunk," you say, then roll onto me and over to the throw on the floor, placing me on top of you, pulling me into the most tender and sweet kiss, unhurried and gentle...your hands in my hair, cupping my chin, running over my body, wrapping your legs around my ankles in a childishly possessive way. In this kiss I can taste the pineapple candy you ate earlier and the iced coffee we shared at the airport waiting for our guitars to be brought. I can taste that you are relaxed and happy; surely only high on the afterglow, but heading for the next high very soon...so I'll give you that.  
You slowly undress my top.  
"At last..." you breathe as I am finally naked on top of you, your white hands on my honeyed shoulders, a slight nip upon the right one. With united powers we managed to get rid of my jeans, tight as they are.  
"You know, I still remember every little funny thing your body does when I make you come, but your body itself is... I don't know anymore... you look different, but feel oh, so the same"  
"I could very well say the same about you" I reply. Despite having lost your skinny boy looks I realize that I still see you as the boy you were.  
"You are very grown up somehow..manly almost...it confuses me." I sit up to straddle you, helping you out of your shirt, saying Hi to my favorite beauty spot on your shoulder. After I rip your jeans and boxers off you I almost moan as I sit down on your thighs again... this much touch makes me feel helpless. We revel in how our naked skins feel next to each other. Seems as if we wanted this for so long.. since your dark ship set sail in my direction at the airport, making me hoist all white flags I have at the sight of you. We have to take it slow to get used to it again now... Your naked chest is about as much I can take without boarding you like my enemy's ship. You are still milk white, creamy perfect, marred with black ink and your beauty spots, scars; some yours, some mine, some other people's. I can see the track marks you normally hide. Looking at them now they make me think of the war wounds of a mercenary who carried and saved his skin through the battles he felt he had to fight. Earned in good and bad times throughout your life, pain and pleasure as per usual so close to each other in you. You let me look at you closely. You were never shy - either about your feelings or about your body - but I know that love changes everything and you were shy letting me look at you. Normally you start blushing when you notice it. I know you look at me too, memorizing all the hiding places of my secrets and sighs on my body's landscape. ---But for now we both take notice of the changes and the stills in each other. Its a careful recollection of the long lost other half. Holy fuck... That's only the physical things...I can't even try to imagine how much I crave to your soul intertwined with mine again... nothing but us in the most simple and yet most complicated of ways...  
So I do the most obvious thing. I start mapping your body with my fingers and my tongue... I smell your hair and lick your ear cup, then suck slightly at the lobe, dip in the valley underneath to follow the line to your jaw to kiss you more. You sigh, reminding me of the first time we made love on a carpet in a hotel, years, ages ago. There was the same blissed chirp in that sigh... I kiss down your neck, your breath hitches and your hands come to rest on my head and my shoulder. Wrapping a strand around a finger softly, your thumb almost stroking my shoulder but actually playing with the invisible peachy fur on my skin that you can only see when I'm very tanned. Your head drops to the side as I reach your collarbone, allowing me to fit my lips into the dip behind it. As I gently bite your shoulder you shiver briefly, because I gave you a bite instead of a kiss - which I think might be rather metaphorical for our 'Us' in general.  
My lips travel lower, I blow over your ink circled nipple and see how it raises under just under the air that I breathe. Your lips part, you draw in a hungry breath, I've always loved how you get so finely tuned to my not-even-touches. So I close my lips around it and suck, hold it between my teeth carefully as my tongue rubs the tip. I let it go and do it again... this time you let out a ragged breath, nearly a sigh, your hands never leaving their place upon me. I lick my finger and start rubbing the other lonely nipple until there is a sigh, a soft, nearly not-there one. You try to brace yourself. I let my fingers and my lips meander down your chest, the cream-white warming under my caress, the indiscreet tip of my tongue licking the salt out of the flat pool of your belly button, holding onto your hip bones, your breath erratic now. I love the nakedness they imply under my hands, how your eyes get dark when I bend to kiss them, my mouth so close to taking you to heaven, my stuttering breath raising goosebumps on your hips. You are getting hard quickly as I kiss the soft skin next to the nest of curly black hair, downy like a kitten. Feeling the heat of your blood so close to my skin makes it hard to concentrate on my gentle reclaiming, to keep it innocent for just a little longer. You are trembling, your breath fast and shallow, I can see your pulse chasing your desire....I look up to you, making sure we are d'accord, that you are still enjoying this, I don't wanna torture you. Meeting my eyes, you sigh, it's full of longing, but so rapturous it almost sweeps me away. Seemingly undecided if you wanna watch me, or let me love you with closed eyes, you look at me, close the eyes, open them again; a childlike wonderment in your look...  
" Yes I know..." I say, as I realise that you are unsure if it might be a wet dream. So I fold your leg up at the knee and bury my face between your legs, kissing the sensitive hidden skin inside your thighs.  
"AAAAaahhhh" a long open-mouthed sigh as I start licking your balls, your hands holding on for dear life in my hair. A wet hand upon your cock, and there it is... My name leaving your lips like the code word for all I screamed out in wild variations under your much rougher touch before the sun set in the west. I smile up at you and then take you in my mouth. Closing my lips around your cock makes me suddenly so hard that I feel uncomfortable laying on my tummy between your legs. I shuffle around and start rubbing myself on your leg to let you feel how much I want you. You start to lose it, your hitching, lost to clear-thinking voice telling me that my mouth is 'so hot and so tight and what a wonderful little french whore I still am'... The dirty talk always announces a faster pace in my mouth which I let you take, holding me by my hair and looking into my eyes. My fingers following my lips are wet, so I just slip two slowly into you, feeling you go through all the wonderful stages of being invaded; the short shock, the little tense, a deep breath, wide eyed and shaky...a moment and then you let me in... a detached smile upon your face. You always like to begin with two instead of one to make it worth it. I start moving them slowly, despite being rougher when you take me, you do love it soft unless you are really drunk. For you this is more than a neccesity - it's touch being the most intimate way to share the moment of losing yourself to another; giving up control, the border between hurt and happiness being a walk on a knife's edge...or even it's blade...  
I've got you panting now, slow slip sliding all over you, mouth, hand, fingers in and out carefully and lacking pursuit for now... Just pleasuring you to see you so sweetly come undone, it's still so wonderful to watch. I try to think clearly as I feel the tension in your body come and go with the movement of my fingers and my mouth, but I seem to instinctively remember the ways your body likes to be taken.  
Stroking your sides and cupping your balls in my hand I decide to up the pace a bit and move my fingers faster to let my lips follow. You are holding my hair, scratching my shoulder, arching your back...As you open your eyes to catch mine I can see it's time. You are begging and demanding me without saying a word. It's almost scary how much I want it too. So I move up to kiss you, raking your hair out of your face; sweaty neck, sweetest lips, slipping my tongue in your mouth like I wanna slip under your skin, in your heart, sneak into your head, into you again...Yes, I'm gonna start with that...  
" Pete, I want to ..Can I..Are you ready?" My head is shambled, I can hardly think straight, knowing what will happen now.  
" Fuck, yes Carlos please come on..." Its completely dark outside now and I can see a million stars littering the dark blue night sky outside our window. The heat is cooling down and I can hear the streets roar on their way into another nights revelry. I wrap your legs around me and move closer to you, lacing our fingers upon your hip as I finally enter your body...knowing how the pain changes to bliss the moment we both take a deep breath, stilling inside each other. I feel the same home you found when you slammed me into the wall and made me yours again. You moan as I slip inside and I can see your pupils dilate with lust and a dopamine high.  
I start moving. trying to hold onto myself - to not lose it right away-but playing with you wound me up rather tightly.. I look at you spread out under me, loose limbs, big eyes, shaking lips, copious amounts of white silken skin. Running my hand up your legs, sighs turning into moans, weaving two into one, I want you to hold me, so I lay down in your arms on top of you, moving slowslowslow, feeling how your beloved body goes with me, listening to the whisper of our skins, your lips and your eyes filling my head with wonderful pictures,  
"Just this is what I dream of in my low nights, how your eyes tell me more than your lips could ever even try to... "I breath in your neck between kissing and sucking my mark in blood onto your cream white. As soon as I feel the the pain ebb away in you I start fucking you properly, increasing the intensity along with the cries you give me. I want to touch you, acquaint myself with what changed in you - not the gangly gazelle anymore that you were in my dreams - a collection of hard bites and soft fingertips, earth-shattering thrusts and the most tender strokes. You feel different, but you react exactly the same as I tilt your hips downwards and push your legs further apart, a couple of dirty curses - my name and your arms fly up - holding onto the legs of the table behind you, touching the floor only with your shoulder blades and bottom. I wanna go fast now and take you with me.... your eyes are closed I know that you'll come as soon as I touch you once more...


	5. Prequel To The Sequel-Heatwave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Glory Days-Heat Wave  
> Pairing: P/C of cos with hints of P and others! What?!He' a libertine !:)  
> Genre: Thailand Reunion Fic  
> Rating: a very mischievous PG  
> Beta: The most wonderful Lady Mimi, loveloveyamyLove<3  
> Notes: Yes ,I finished something and it's the prequel to the final episode of Glory Days!Yay❤️

Slowly drifting back into consciousness after a brilliant ( and very well deserved, in my opinion) afternoon nap. Too lazy to open my eyes, I take a deep breath of the flower scented air and snuggle deeper into the pillow, in the same moment both willing and unwilling to fully wake up. It’s very hot and I can feel the parts of my skin the sun has slowly taken possession of whilst I slept.  
I am flat on my tummy, on one of these wonderfully comfortable sunloungers near the pool. They are long enough to stretch out completely, but close enough to the ground that I can touch the sun heated tiles of the floor. Running a lost-to-the-world fingertip over the hard relief and the rough interstitials parting them. Thinking about how they build a perfect picture on the mosaic floor; their individual colours and forms held together by grout that looks like nothing but builds the necessary connection. Before my sleep addled lizard brain can make me jump to the apparent resemblance to our band and what we do here, I hear steps coming closer. Only someone close to me would dare to come up here after I slipped off wordlessly with my trademark closed-off droopy-eyed "Fuck off I need a cat nap" face.  
It’s you, I know it by your step and the careful, yet allowable, way you come closer. Also I know that you’re the only one who insistently walks around on bare feet. Gary wouldn’t be seen dead in unproper footgear. His only concession to the humid Thailand heat were some fancy slippers that cost more than I paid for my whole Chucks collection over the years, John said something about not stepping on Mother Earth’s beautiful face with bare feet and was never seen without some handwoven straw sandals that made me giggle so hard that he started wearing chelsea boots again.  
The light upon me changes somehow and I realize that you adjusted the parasol next to me, shielding me from the wandering sunlight. It’s cooler in an instant. You are looking at me, your breath getting more shallow for a second, then you carefully let yourself settle down on top of me; your large hands with very clean nails gripping the dark teakwood of my daybed on either side of my head. Your legs insinuate themselves between my slightly spread ones and your heated tummy rests upon the curve of my arse - my new tattoo above still a bit sore - a tiny sting as you push me into my pillows without pressing all air out of me. Your lips graze my neck, you whisper my name under your breath as your head comes to rest between my shoulderblades.  
" Are you awake?"  
" Somehow...why?"  
" Just asking..."  
Raising my hand off the floor, leaving my grout and tiles behind, I stroke your hair for a second. We lay together, thinking, then:  
"There is tea on the table and I stole some melon from the kitchen as you skipped breakfast again..."  
"Hmmm...( It comes out more like a purr than I intended it to) Thank you!" We lay quiet again, our skin getting slightly damp against one another.  
"Are you homesick sometimes?" I ask, thinking about how I sometimes miss grey days and the faint buzz of the traffic.  
"Right now or in general? "  
" I don’t know...are you?" ...then after a moment..."He, Carlos, you are, eh?"  
And whilst I am determined to deny, deny, deny that, I somehow feel that I’ve lost a little grip on reality out here, where it’s so much like the Arcadia we used to dream about. You said the other day that I’m not in this world anyway and made fun of me for being a rockstarry rockstar, but I know that this is not what we are talking right now.  
"Yes..." you say, “...Sometimes I miss England so much it makes me wanna tear my hair out and scream. At night mostly. The weather, the accent, the second nature politeness and the homey feeling of Albion sky above my head! The air smells different at home, you know?"  
Trust you to say it the most dramatic way. I am nodding with closed eyes. You stroke my hair in a silent gesture of understanding.  
A while later, just when I start getting really hot and out of breath by your weight crushing me, you raise up first on your elbows, then your palms above me, moving up until your hips bump into my arse. A distinct twinge curls in me and makes me groan.  
"Ouch, Pete, go play somewhere else, 'm sore..." I huff mock-grudgingly.  
"But I wanna play with you...you make the best noises.."  
I hear you snigger in my neck. These days you have a lot of time at your hands suddenly-not having to think about drugs anymore, trying to procure said drugs, take the drugs, chasing the high and only ever coming down off them...it’s brought back an almost lost playful, easy going, always randy Pete...and turned you into a nymphomaniac again...I can hardly keep up with the intensity you want me with. So I send you out to play with your fun things - a group of rather pretty friends - girls and boys that kept you company here before the band and I showed up. You are exceedingly touchy, you need contact all the time, the reassurance of warmth beneath your fingers. None of them showed much surprise though when you let most of them off in favor of shagging me to an inch of our lives instead, at every possible (and impossible) moment. Maybe the life here is a lot easier… and I’m not only talking about what we get up to in the studio room behind glass and in front of controllers....less drama, less hassle; instead sun, fun and half of nature’s creatures come crawling into your room at night to stare in your sleepy face in the morning. The other day I heard Adrian shouting at a scorpion in the loo at night. I didn’t yet dare to ask where he found it, but ever since he hasn’t looked trustingly at the wildlife around us anymore. Whilst I am not bothered by all kinds of fun insects, snakes and things buzzing around my nose, I’d easily live without the things that come to bite me. ‘It’s cos you’ve got sweet blood’, you said with a slightly cruel smile that gave me hot flashes.  
You are still rubbing your half hard-on against my arse like a horny teenage boy and even though I can’t say it doesn’t turn me on, I’m distinctively out of order for the moment.  
"You broke it..." I sound serious even to my own ears..."It hurts, we can’t do it...anymore!"  
I open my eyes and look at you. The shell-shocked look in your eyes fades as soon as you see the twitching corner of my mouth as I try to stay in character....  
"Pete, get off Carl, we’ve got a dirty fucking rock’n’roll record to make...you can give him another shag of his life later!"  
Even our new producer seems to rather enjoy the life of the Libertines....


	6. My heart, my soul, my true rock'n'roll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Glory Days- My heart, my soul, my true rock'n'roll  
> Pairing: P/C and thats just about it! Mentioning of othweer but very fleetin  
> Genre: Thailand Reunion Fic  
> Rating: a very mischievous NC 17, very much so says katie_delaney  
> Beta: The most wonderful Lady mimioomin ,softer that a kittens paw and faster than a lightning as per usual! Thank you a 1000 times <3 loveloveyamyLove <3  
> Notes: Yes , I FINALLY finished Glory Days!It took me ages but I feel its time to finally wrap it up- I mean the boys have recorded their"dirty fucking rock n roll record" (As Carl said so incomparably Carl-like :) meanwhile AND released it!
> 
> To my 3 little stars,without you lovely girls my life would be a lot more boring!Thank you!  
> x

Glory Days 6 My heart, my soul, my true rock'n'roll

There is something specifically spectacular about waking up in a tropic night. First it’s not really dark and second it’s never really quiet. It’s confusing and stunning, and even after a week it still startles me. No night in London is ever that loud and alive in such wonderful way. More vibrant and crawling with energy than Camden on a saturday night.

You must have opened the curtains in the room whilst I slept to let in the cooler night air, so I can see the the dark violet-blue sky stretch over our beach bungalow, splattered with an obscenely large quantity of the brightest stars I’ve ever seen. I hear night hunting birds call, dark animals scream and insects sing in a bewitching choir, the shore breaks faraway waves. The scent of flowers fills this night ablaze and the velvet air touches my skin almost like a caress. Your tall silhouette graces the doorstep quietly. The tip of your fag glowing brighter with your breath...the endless horizon over the sea framing your back.

“Stop watching me sleep, you are making me nervous....“ I say mock grumpily, my voice still hoarse with sleep, shifting and stretching my lazy body back to life. You come walking over to the bed, a catlike sneak on bare feet and drop elegantly to your knees by my side, holding your fag to my lips. Secretly I love waking up knowing your eyes on me, and we both know it. I fill my lungs with black smoke and my eyes with your smile, my lips touching your finger tips and fanning the embers with my breath. You are breathing lightly in in dark.

“It stopped raining a while ago, I thought I’d see if you are in the mood for a skinny dip...Oh and we finished that tricky drum part of ‘Gunga Din’. Everyone went to sleep I think...“  
You unfold your long legs on the floor, stretching them out in front of you, your back leaning against the edge of the bed, your head falling back on the mattress to look at me... You finish our fag with a last short draw and drop it with a hiss into the empty bottle of Peroni I left next to the bed when I crawled into it hours ago.  
We’ve been at it in the studio forever, I didn’t even notice how the time flew by and I almost fell asleep on the carpeted floor next to your chair, looking around, not willing to close my eyes in the face of the brilliant feeling of finally writing this record I have had in my head for ages. With the only one true gang I ever was part of. Seeing you with headphones over your silly hat behind the shield of a mic and Gary in his glassbox for the drums, Jawn grinning while he bounces on the balls of his feet to the beat he plays. It’s so much more than I ever dared to hope for. I have been waking up with Libertines lyrics in my head for weeks now, your voice singing them.  
No eyelash was batted by anyone when you and I shacked up not only in the same house but well, in the same room. No explanation needed apparently...we are not the only ones who are happy to have us back it seems.  
Your lips taste like Earl Grey as we kiss upside down in an awkward position, but in the leisurely reassuring way of lovers who kiss just to make sure they don’t forget the taste of each other’s mouth.

Then suddenly you are on the bed with me, closing in quickly, warm, gentle hands under the sheets roaming my skin, sanded to a golden silky feel by the sun and beach during the last days. You groan quietly, rubbing your hardon through your trousers and my pants against my hip, pushing my too-long hair out of my face and off my neck to suck on my pulsepoint. I’d shed only half of my clothes when I collapsed into bed and you are picking up where I left off with undressing. This will not be some endless rough claiming, mixing pain and pleasure artfully for the bigger bang; just this slow heated melting into each other, slinking skin and moaned filthy little confessions said 1000 times before in each other’s ear. We are not even sure yet who’ll be the one to be taken. I feel lazy and pliant, my arousal circles slowly through my body like a bird in the air, higher and higher, out of reach or control, my eyes are closed and I feel every reverent touch so much more intensely, I can smell the hot days sun on your skin and wind in your hair.

Your hands cup my face, joining lips in a wet sloppy kiss full of soft lips and tongue, then tracing my neck, cool fingers stroking, not stealing my breath as in the more frantic/frenzied fucks we enjoy at times. I moan your name breathily, finishing with a light laugh as your nose tickles me…

“Coming into my room to see you sleep in my bed does this to me... I wanna climb into you... touch you without waking you up, then fuck you with all eyes open...“ You sound amused, like you’re telling me something you don’t understand about yourself, interrupting yourself to lick at my nipples, small hard delicious buds in your mouth making me tremble and make mindless little "Oh, Oh, Oh" noises..  
I finally manage to get rid of your vest after a bit of jostling. I breath a victorious noise in our kiss and you snigger.

“Hu Carlos, eager muchly?“

“Hm, yeah...you climbing into my bed does this to meeoooowwwhhh“  
My ability to speak leaves me rapidly as your hand wanders over my tummy, down into my pants, wrapping around my cock tight and sweet, as perfect as your mouth on mine, a wet lick over my shoulder down to my left nipple again.

"My bed...was here first.."

You are humming a melody we played all afternoon as you slide my pants down.  
Your hand is wet and slow, your skin getting hotter and sticky on mine as I slip my hand into the waistband of your shorts, running the other one all the way down your back, skipping over the single notches of your spine as if every single one is a dear friend of mine. You are tanned for the very first time in your life and your skin is exhaling the heat of the day under my curious fingertips. Your eyes are open, your touch making me feel like the most desired thing in the world.  
“Oh you ... don’t make me wait!“ I murmur in your ear arching up, grinding myself hard into you. I want to touch you everywhere, feeling as much of your skin on mine as I can.

 

You reach down to pick up a bottle of expensive sunscreen that one of your playthings must have left before I moved in. It smells like watermelon when you open it and the fresh girly scent makes us laugh in the dark. We are both naked now, our damp tingling skins gliding over other each other’s, calloused tender fingers, hungry mouths and whispers and sighs...I want you so much I don’t even care how it’s done..as long as it happens. I wrap one leg around your waist, your hand running up my thigh towards my hip, circling the protruding bone with your thumb. Your lips come up to my mouth again, kissing me slow and deep, wrapping your tongue around mine, making me dizzy with lazy want.

I feel your wonderfully indecent fingertip slide down between my legs, leaving a trail of wetness over my balls, rolling them gently in your hand in passing. Teasingly you circle around, light fingers on the most intimate skin before dipping inside me. Just a bit, maybe up to the first knuckle, dragging a filthy moan out of me and then you are gone again..then slipping in again. A shallow evil little touch, just for the fun of it, not that it’s actually necessary. I am always ready for you somehow. My body welcomes you. The slight burn making it more real. The price I look forward to paying for the mind-blowing pleasure to follow--- More arching, louder moaning as you whisper in my hair

“God, look at you...how much you want it...do you know how sexy you are? All hungry sighs and big eyes!“

Another shallow thrust, then you leave to swiftly dive back deeply into me with a long clever finger igniting me even more from within.

“Uh yeah, I really want it...I thought you’d noticed already...“ It fizzles out in a long shaky exhale.  
I want to let you know I am hungry and feeling utterly incomplete without you, suddenly bereft of your lingering touch... but my words don’t seem to bend to my will, my tongue in your mouth; unable to form the words to share my need to be just taken in a lazy, passionate, maybe awe-struck silence.

The expression in your eyes changes suddenly, dips from tender sweetness into a wild, almost brutal desire. You pull me closer across the sheets with an arm around my waist, fingers slipping out of me to be replaced by the blunt promise of your cock’s crown, pressing but not pushing in. Your whispers turn breathless.

“Gonna take you now, yeah? I want you so much... I sat in the studio and all I could think of was your skin...I ran over here and here you are... and you want me! Still blows my mind...“

I smooth your hair out of your face, shushing you, pressing little pecks to your face and tell you that everything is alright, that I am here, that I won’t go anywhere and that I’m yours, all yours, all of me and then I beg you to have me...your hand comes to rest next to me onto the headboard, holding yourself up to give me enough space to touch you, to arch into you, to see you shiver and then you’re there suddenly...pushing into me with a long hard stroke while pulling me closer to your body which makes me scream out loud.

“Shhh, Carlos the door is open...“ You smile wickedly as you slowly circle your narrow hips in between my spread thighs, pressing insistently onto my sweet spot quickly melting me down to a damp, shaking, gasping mess; slightly still aware of the empty beach view over the horizon I can see over your shoulder through the open door.

We are all slow and soft touches and our skin sticks to each others until I can’t say where mine ends and you begin. You are so close to me that no sheet of paper would fit between us now, we are not loud and you don’t make me scream again. Our foreheads press together, you look into my eyes and breathe in the air I let out in careless sighs.

You are stroking my hair, holding me in the safe shelter of your arms next to my head, never separating your lips from mine, sometimes just resting them together, quietly moaning in my mouth. My arms sling around your neck and waist, glued to your searing skin by our mingled sweat and our perfect rhythm. Your slow deep moves into the cradle of my hips lift me off the sheets everytime. I don’t want to give away one single inch of your touch.  
The tension in your body and your soundless sighs tell me you are close and I know that I’ll come with you untouched, just being fucked.

” Oh fuck yes, please, I’m so close...” I am begging you to take me with you.

”Yes love, yes! Let go, let go, let go...” My orgasm sneaks up on me slowly, raising above me like a silent flood rolling over my head, swallowing me whole, it’s torrent taking me down until I drown in pleasure and your eyes. You are fucking me through my orgasm, bottoming out on every thrust, licking my helpless moans out of my mouth, goading me with breathless little words of praise. My body a high arch against you, touching the sheets only with my shoulders. My come smearing between our bellies.

” I made you come without even touching you...you are made for being fucked, you know? It’s so hot! I forgot I could do that ”  
Your eyes are big and bright, like the cat that ate the canary. Feeling me go limp in your arms you still in me and let me down gently onto the sheets, pushing the wet hair out of my face with the tip of your nose...traveling down my neck and sucking a light mark of possession on my skin...finishing with a little nip as you pull back and raise above me. Taking in the whole sweaty happiness between your shaking endless thighs, you run your fingers through the mess I made of the golden plane of my belly, licking my come off your fingertips. You smile whilst holding my eyes as if you can’t get enough of seeing me like this. You turn my supple body over, straddling the back of my thighs. A sly hand follows down the line of my spine, dipping into the sloping curve above my tailbone. Parting my cheeks you carefully add my own slippy wetness to my already a bit sore hole, running a gentle finger around the over sensitive pucker, making me sigh happily into my pillow. I can practically feel your gaze as you look at me and your cruel wonderful fingers disappear into me...I hear your breath hitching and bitten away; soundless whispering to yourself as you play with me. Lovely, sloppy, dirty wet, possessive and proud to make me feel such abandon in trust.

Spreading me open with both hands your cock slipslides through my crack wetly a few times before you change the angle above me and drive in again, deeply and smoothly. A quiet murmur of "Oh God Carl...you ...this looks so good..you’ve got no idea! So tight, so pretty, so mine!"

You start riding me slow and deep and careful to not hurt me in my blissed out state. Panting out the most obscene compliments you speed up, holding me still open with one hand while the other grabs the headboard of the bed for support and so as to not crush me, the wet slapping sound of our skins colliding louder than the waves outside, the forgotten open door. I intertwine my fingers with yours on the headboard and clench down on you moving in me, the insistent rub over my sweet spot making me half-hard again. I seemingly can’t get enough of you and the simple ways you wind me up, knowing so well how to take me. You bend down over me, smelling me, kissing the side of my jaw, my lips, softly licking into my mouth, my cock twitches back to life from your filthy look so full of love. The glint in your eyes tells me you’ve noticed how I want more suddenly again.. You kiss the tip of my fingers in your hand before you pull back, slipping out of me with a little hiss to move down on the bed spreading me open again, pushing my thighs as far apart as possible.

I know your touch before I feel it. Your tongue is a small wet cool tip running up my heated cleft, to return to my fucked open hole and dip into me, wiggling teasingly now, wasting no time to taste me. Suddenly all air has left me and I need to scream. It feels so good and so dirty that I’m lost for words or even air to moan. Humming into me and sending an electrifying jolt through me as you pull me close, curling your fingers around my hip bones, burying your face between my buttocks to get as deep in me as possible whilst cupping my balls, high and tight yet again. Your sinful tongue disappears together with the heat of your body. But I have no time to bemoan your loss. Stroking softly up the back of my thighs, you grab my hipbones again and pull me up.

"Need you on hands and knees..." you instruct me shortly, so as not to stress my increasingly eroding brain. I move obligingly with you up off the wet sheets soaked with our sweat and come.  
You guide yourself back into my hungry---- body all the way to the hilt, your belly snug to my arse. Hipbones sharply pressed against me..bumping already existing bruises beneath my skin; the tiny pain clearing my senses enough to feel naked without your skin on mine.  
" Please..." I gasp, the cool air on my skin letting me think clearly enough for a moment to tell you what I want. "Come here, stay close..I ...Oh Goooohhhod, do that again!" and you do.

Then you bend down to me, covering my heated sweaty body with yours, as you slowly fuck me with barely any moves, sometimes just pressing into me deeply holding my hips still and just insistently rubbing my prostate with your cock inside me until my soft mewls turn to keening, sobbing pleas for more and harder. Not wanting to give away too much precious skin on skin contact, you reach through my legs with both hands to spread them as far as possible and press me down to the mattress while kissing my neck. I am arching my back to get you to start pounding me again and you take the hint.

"Yes baby, come on..." you whisper. Your voice breaks and your rhythm falters...this time I am going to take you with me...I rub my cheek against your hand on my shoulder, licking your fingers and start sucking your thumb as I clench around you as hard as I can.. your moan turns into a scream and I can feel you coming and filling me with heat as I come a second time untouched, just from your cock, breathlessly gasping:

“Oh Fuck, oh Pete..Oh God! Love!" The heat spreads rapidly through my whole body til it pops into sweetness and the most intense feeling of proximity and happiness. With every spurt into me you give another delicious little cry hidden in my hair.  
Slumping down next to me you pull me on my side with you to not break our connection. Licking the salt off my neck, you hold me close as we wrap ourselves together under the thin sheets as close as possible to finally asleep in the cool morning air under a sky slowly turning pink.

***

As I walk down to the late breakfast table while struggling to send a message to Drewski I hear someone say :  
"That was quite a proper workout you put Carl through last night, Pete, do you mind closing the door next time...?"

"Was only trying to do something for his posture....he’ll never reach this fucking high note if he sings sitting down anyway..."

I decide that I don’t need breakfast and have a smoke by the pool instead.

 

***  
3 weeks before, London Heathrow 09:38 M

 

Friday morning and I am leaving. It’s a sunny warm spring day in London and I feel the pressure and strain of the last days and weeks - the feeling of being split in two - leave me as I squint into the sun through my new 10 Bhat sunglasses. You bought them for me at the beach last time we were here after I mentioned my beloved Wayfarers went the way of all things breakable. They are yellow plastic and quite silly, but I like the things less brittle and more fun these days. My band eyed them suspiciously last night backstage at the Scala, not daring to say something - as if they were the sudden manifestation of another reality, creeping into their minds unannounced. I know they think this might be the last they see of me anyway, now that I fuck off to an island in Thailand to my other, my real band, my elective affinity, my heart my soul, my true rocknroll? I avoid thinking about the things I had to promise and put up with to be able to board this airplane alone.

The bloody gig last night might have destroyed the rocknroll boys image the Jackals had forever, but what was I supposed to do? She pouted and nagged and put to work every tool of emotional blackmailing ever been invented by girls wanting something from their men...so I said yes, even though we all knew that it was utterly unnecessary, and whilst last night I was quite pissed at hearing my two favorite songs on the Jackals album getting slaughtered by the rather unrehearsed sounding shrill backing vocals of my girlfriend and her sisters; right now I am bothered much less than I care to admit.

I am flying alone this time. And I have not the slightest hint of a doubt that it’s gonna be the biggest adventure of my life. Not to mend things that I deemed broken forever...that happened quite a while ago. But to touch this - the new record, the new Libertines, the new Us - touring as a band that I’d never thought I would see on a stage together again. Against all fucking odds we made it. And all it took was the your “Yes!“ to a question no one dared to ask. I’d have dropped everything right there if I could have. But then I felt no hurry into it. Knowing the door was open was enough not to feel that I need hurry too quickly over the doorstep.

Stretching out over 3 seats, I look out of the airplane window at the most beautiful smile my Albion gives me now that I leave her again. The sky is blue and the grass is greener than anywhere else in the world, but there are things more important than home right now. Before I leave, Drew our always-too-clever-for-his-own-good friend, sent me a text:  
“Since home is where your heart is I assume I won’t see you back here soon. Say HI for me to the tamed fella and I’m proud of him and stuff... yeah?x“.

The plane speeds up over the runway and hops twice very hard before it leaves Blighty’s ground towards more lovely shores. Towards you.  
I try to snuggle into my seat, hogging all the pillows the flight assistants could come up with and wait til I drop off. I think about the last time I flew, with you to Thailand. I fell asleep on your shoulder and woke up in your lap...Ha, quite the metaphor for Biggles and Bilo. I know you d like it.  
The time we spent together in Thailand back then was like the good old days we never got spent with each other: Fucking perfect.  
Writing with each other came naturally, you caught me when I was shying back from the gravity of what we were about to do. Tied me down with goading and egging and nagging until I was ready to pick up the pencil and start putting down the things onto paper that my mind had already written long time ago.  
We drank endless litres of Earl Grey and Hong Thong, smoked enough fags to chase away every bug in the vicinity and sang old songs and new melodies until we were hoarse.

In the beginning there were so many traps to walk into and barely scabbed wounds we were afraid to touch; too easy to talk the good new days away by not getting over the dark ages. You stopped in the middle of the sentence and smiled sadly at times...saying everything by saying nothing more. I had random crying fits in the beginning, having all my feelings collapsing around me and sometimes woke you up at night, sobbing into our pillows. You waited til it was just a quiet shamed sniffle on your shoulder and fucked me right through the mattress, sometimes rough with emotion but never saying a single word aside of my name.  
I looked at you closely to see when your habit left you and when the real Peter came back in, the ups and downs you went through were my privilege to share. I crashed a couple times with you too, cos it hurts less to hit the ground when your hand is held, I think.  
I told myself every morning like a prayer: I won’t make the same fucking mistake twice!

 

*-*-*

You have never been bound to solid ground as I am. I need a home, a place of my own with a door I can slam behind me and where my things have my own perfect order. My guitars lined up on the wall, paper stacked, books piled, cables rolled up and things neatly folded in the drawers...Home is where your heart is.

“Bullshit,” you say, “Home is where you dance barefoot with yourself."

In your case the beach in Thailand is as good as a fancy flat in Paris, the apartment that comes with a studio in Hamburg or a camper van. You always were like that. One pillow you can rest your head on is as good as the other one, preferably with the right person to share it with, aye my love?  
Apparently I am the right one, cos turning around at night you reach for me and wake up with a grouchy noise when I am not there.

Sometimes I might be able to fall asleep closely encircled and pressed up to someone, but I always make my way to my own side of the bed, under my own sheets and into my dreams; not to be invaded by someone else (which has has been mentioned repeatedly by my significant other). Since I am here the duty has turned into need. Smelling you in the sheets has always relaxed me, but the craving to feel your skin next to mine when I dream came back literally overnight. It must have been ingrained deeply to come back so easily and unnoticed, you said when you found me curled into you in the morning, stealing your air, holding onto you even fast asleep.

These days I regularly wake up to find you awake, either writing in bed next to me; soft scribble scratching as the golden morning sun reflects in your eyes, or you just lay there looking at me as if you still haven’t caught up with all the mornings you woke up missing me.

 

*-*-*

You are fidgeting on your stool in front of me. I look down onto your neck and naked back. You’re topless, just in jeans and that lovely tan I don’t get tired of looking at, wearing your various necklaces and one of my bandanas around your wrist. I pull your shoulder to rest against the back of the chair and my right hand dips into the blue glass bowl with water on the table next to me.  
I run my wet hand through your hair, raking it back, watching the maroon colored soft strands glide through my fingers...there are a lot of grey ones in there now. You called it 'salt'n'pepper' the other day. It’s certainly before it’s time but I assume a 100 lives lived and deaths died in just 10 years are reason enough. You can’t bring yourself to dye them, I know. I repeat the movement until I can see single drops slowly making their way down your back from your nape.  
"Fuck, Carl," you whine, shaking yourself like a cat shy of water. "I don’t understand why it has to be now ..."

" Cuz you drive me crazy and you tickle me all night."

The comb gildes through your fine hair slowly and easily, and even though it’s about 36 degrees outside in the sun, I can see you shiver as a drop slowly slips down your back right next to your spine. That one certain spot on your back is so very sensitive to touch that even the almost-not-there touch of the waterdrop sometimes makes you tremble lightly. I part your hair in the middle and slick it to your long neck, taking the longest tips between my middle and fore finger. I like touching you in broad daylight, knowing anyone could see us but no one actually cares. It’s our business what we get up to, as long as we don’t break each others necks or hearts again.

"Shhh now...or I’m gonna hurt you." The cold metal on your skin makes you flinch and I wonder when was the last time metal touched you innocently.  
No more knives and needles for this boy of mine, I think and feel an unexpected flicker of overwhelming protectiveness in my tummy; twisting and twirling and making me almost grit my teeth against the strong feeling.  
Your eyes are closed and you are holding on to the armrests of the chair as I run the sharp, cold blade along your skin. I know I should feel like I am clipping your wings, but our calm silence and your closed eyes make it feel like something much more tender and private.--  
I am so focussed on my task that I don’t notice the drip right before it slips off the downturned tip of my nose, falling a long way down until it reaches the small of your back right above the black leather of your belt.

" What was that? Are you okay, Carl?" You don’t turn around because I ordered you to stay still, but I feel your heart beat faster.

"It’s just hot in here, sorry!" I say wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, feeling silly.

Clipped dark pieces of you slip down your caramel colored back like black rain and you give a little sigh as if you’d felt the cut. I run the comb through your hair once more, straightening the last strands at your neck and snip them to a decent length that doesn’t make you look like a redneck missing his baseball hat anymore. Slowly circling around you, I pick up the longer parts with the tip of the comb and cut the ends diagonally shorter, just like I saw my hairdresser do it. Finally I reach your front and instantly your hands are on me, eyes still closed. Carefully gliding over my biceps running down to my elbow. Just touching me for touching sake, because I’m there and you can; to feel our scents mingling in the palm of your hand. Standing in front of you, I try to find the perfect position to see and cut your fringe just a little bit, so you don’t constantly get single hairs caught in your overlong lashes. I spend a couple of wonderfully quiet minutes everyday untangling them from your fluttering butterfly wing eyes in the afterglow. You keep blowing them out of your eyes though as you’ve got no hands free and that drives me insane. The slight huff you do it with makes me wanna smack you after the third time. So I dragged you out of the studio by your belt loop with your unplugged guitar cable and the laughter of our band mates trailing behind us. The guitar now leans abandoned in a corner of our terrace… next to it are my shoes and your shirt. Once I had you out of the room, you submitted to my demand for a haircut rather easily as long as I’d do it, just like back when we lived at Delany Mansions and had first, no money and later, no time for hairdressers.

I finally find the right stance with my legs wide instead of bent down.  
I’m holding my breath as I very, very carefully slide the open scissors beneath your fringe, right underneath your right eyebrow.  
The first longer hairs fall into your lap, your eyes are closed, your breath is slow and steady; fanning me, smelling like Earl Grey and kisses. Feeling the cold steel slip away from your skin you open your eyes. A quiet comfortable, homey eternity stretches between us before you say:

" Alright? Don’t take too much.." Your voice drops to a intimate whisper "...or you can’t hold onto it anymore..!"

You haul me close and onto your lap astride. The small pink tip of your tongue peeks out to wet your lips and I sigh as I let myself fall into your soft pull, coming to rest on your half hard cock hidden in the folds of your trousers. Large hands cover each of my arse cheeks as you luxuriously rub them, pressing me into your body, rubbing the tip of your nose over my cheek, downwards to my lips. The scissors and the comb drop from my hands, hitting the floor with tinkling noises as I rest my arms on your shoulders, fingers lacing in your lovebite adorned neck. My scruff has left a slightly red spot at the side of your nose, it’s the last thing I see before I close my eyes to let you kiss the corner of my mouth.  
Arkadia...I can feel you near!

 

xx


	7. Glory Days-Skins, Scents and Memories Ficlet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My lovely Lady [](http://mimioomin.livejournal.com/profile)[mimioomin](http://mimioomin.livejournal.com/) please accept this humble little ficlet as your present!

Loveloveyalove,  
HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY WATERLOO WHOHO!x  
  
  
  
He looks nervous as he climbs on the table to lay upon it facedown. His leather jacket like a shed skin sitting on the chair next to me. The very bright light in the small cubicle makes us both look very young and pale and pretty. The guy hands me a pen and nods in direction of the table on which my Biggles still shifts around uncomfortably to hide his fright and doubts.  
"You have to undress, daftie," I murmur in his ear as I bend over him, catching his scent hidden in his hair. He grumbles and unbuckles, pushing his jeans down a bit, just enough to reveal the waist band of his boxers. The gold hue of his skin got a tad darker in the last days spent at the beach, drinking coconut drinks and trying not to touch each other all the time to make sure it wasn’t a dream. He enjoyed making me giddy with all this displayed naked skin of his.  
I run a fingertip over the thin strip of revealed skin, loving how he shivers under the harmless touch that he cannot see but just feel. I brush the waistband down a bit and seize the perfection I see. Twin dimples, my finger prints in slight blue wrapped around his hip bones, the dangerous bend of his spine that I wanna rest my head in when I die.  
" I gonna touch you now...don’t move, okay?"  
" Hu, aem. okay...' It’s muffled and so quiet I hardly hear it, but I always understand him. I hear he is losing his nerves now...he sounds shaky and mumbles even more than usual.  I touch him with my left hand to show him I am still here and in it with him, and to stabilize my other hand as I touch his skin with the thin tip of the pen to write "Peter" just below his dimples. There are goosebumps on his hips at my touch and I hear him breathing fast. I mark his skin in a different way than I repeatedly did in the last few days.  
I think of the last time we did this, it was his idea back then and his writing. He tried to tie us together but we couldn’t even get it done the same day...but now we are here and he said yes to get my name on His Divine Bottom. It looks wonderful. Perfectly centred and intimately scribbled, unique, a signature, mark of ownership extraordinary, but it’s not just that, it’s the will to make it visible for eternity. My letters are on his skin and he’s shaking as the bloke leans over him and shifts him around a bit to find the perfect position.  
The needle buzzes into life so close it splatters black ink on his skin and I see him flinch. I shuffle closer and around the table into his view reach out for his hand that he rests his head on, sneaking my fingers into his. His grip is tight and wet. I wonder if he regrets having said yes to this. His eyes flutter open, lock with mine and it’s all I need to know. There is certainty and almost painfully love struck hope in them. He smiles. This time it feels right.  
He is not a fan of needles (guess why?) and has a very low pain threshold but he does not feel sorry. He starts panting a bit as the needle slips into his skin the first time, pressing my fingers, the Albion sky blue of his eyes clouding for a second. I kneel down in front of the table to carefully kiss his damp forehead. As the needle moves slowly over the little nudge of his tailbone, he gives a little moan. I stroke his hair out of his sweaty face...reach up and touch his lips with my thumb to announce my lips meeting his.  His lips part on mine with a sweet breath, the tip of his tongue comes tasting me.  
" AAhhh,” he yelps, jerking away from me in a pained instinct, his teeth catching my lower lip.  
"Sorry," the tattoo bloke sounds seriously contrite, prolly cos I give him a very mean stare over Carl’s shoulder at this. Also probably because I am about 2 heads larger than him and look mad enough to punch him for hurting Carl. Well, hurting him more than necessary. It’s happened too often before, and I hate each single time.  
Carl’s hand touches my cheek, getting my attention back to him. His lip is bloody. My eyes fly back to the tattoo bloke, my fingers curling to a fist.  
" Shhh," Carl says, rubbing my neck as he licks the blood of his lips.  
“Come here!"  He pulls me down again to kiss me some more. "I am sorry I bit you, are you okay?" "Yes, ouch..." The needle hums into action again, he tenses a bit in the kiss but won’t jump again and just lets it happen, taking my hand in his neck as an anchor to my heart.  
Xxx  
  
  
I hope you like your little treat...<3  



End file.
